StarCrossed
by DeAnna's Rhapsody
Summary: A tale of the tragic relationships between Lemony/Beatrice and Olaf/Kit before TBB. Some background on why the characters are the way they are.
1. Chapter 1

Lemony Snicket stared blankly through the window of his small home, waiting for the postman to come with his treasures. He was waiting for an important letter from an associate of his. He tried to stay focused on the article he was writing for _The Daily Punctilio_, but his mind kept wandering. _Beatrice_, her beautiful name echoed in his mind as pictures of her floated just out of his reach. Memories. Memories, bitter as horseradish, consumed him as he fought to regain his concentration.

Just then, as if to save him from his musings, the little square truck could be seen making stops along his road. It would be to his house soon. Lemony stood from his seat and went to the door, watching through its small window as the truck finally made its way to his mailbox. He stood there until he saw the truck drive around the corner out of sight. Then, with as much grace as he could muster, he flung the door wide open and hastened down his driveway to his mailbox.

When he opened his mailbox, he found three documents inside. The first one was the electricity bill, so he stuffed it into his pocket. The second, to his surprise, had the name Olaf in the top left corner. Without bothering to read the rest of the envelope, he tore it open and pulled out the enclosed letter. He stuck the last envelope in his pocket to read later as he began to read the letter from Olaf.

_Hello, inamorata. It's been a long time. I know it's mostly my own fault that we haven't seen eachother in awhile, but I've been busy. I have a lot of responsibility, you know. It's not like it's bothered you much anyway. I know you too well, beloved. You have better things to worry about than us. Love always comes in second to your VFD duties. Well, so be it. If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get. I wanted to write you this letter to say goodbye, dearest. Goodbye to love. Goodbye to happiness. Goodbye to everything else that you ever were to me. I'll miss you, sweetheart. But I promise you one thing: I _will_ kiss you again someday. One last time. That's one thing you can count on. _

_-Olaf _

Lemony tried hard not to laugh. It was just like Olaf to play a crude joke like this. He stuck the letter back into the envelope, and as he did so, he saw who the letter was actually addressed to. And it wasn't him.

_Kit Snicket_, the envelope said. Lemony stared at it in disbelief. In that moment, to his horror, he realized that there was no way that the letter was a joke. It was very, very real. He slowly, carefully slipped the letter back out and read over it again. He couldn't believe what he was seeing with his own eyes. _Why has she never told me?_ he kept thinking to himself. But it was obvious. She thought he would have gotten angry if he knew. And she was probably right.

He walked back into his house in silence. He didn't even think about the letter he had been so anxious to read earlier. There was only one thing he could do. Dazed, he picked up the phone and dialed Kit's number. He secretly hoped she wouldn't be home, but almost immediately he heard her calm voice, "Hello?"

"Kit? This is Lemony," he muttered, trying to sound calmer than he felt, trying to purge the chaos from his mind.

"Hello, Lemony," she said. He could tell from her tone that she already knew something was wrong. "How are you?"

"Well, I...I accidentally got a piece of mail addressed to you. I was wondering if you could come pick it up."

"So what's wrong?"

He sighed. She could read him so well. "I didn't see your name on it at first, and I read it. I'm sorry."

"Oh, goodness, Lemony. That's all right. It was an honest mistake," her voice was gentle and happy, but it also had a slight edge to it as she added, "Who was it from?"

"I think you'd better just come get it."

"Oh, I understand," she said. She must have thought it was something confidential for VFD because her voice was completely calm again.

"When can you come to visit?"

"I'll come on over right now. I'm not doing anything important."

"Sounds wonderful," Lemony replied, finally letting his voice show his melancholy mood, "See you soon."


	2. Chapter 2

Kit drove a little faster than she should have down her brother's street. It wasn't that she was so anxious to get her letter, but rather to find out what had gotten her brother so upset. She knew Lemony well enough to know that the fact that he had read the letter wasn't what bothered him. It must have been its content.

She parked her car in the garage and walked around to the front of the house to find him sitting on his front porch waiting for her. To Kit's surprise, he was looking back over the letter. That wasn't like him. She would have expected him to leave it in the envelope until she got there.

She knew it must be serious, so she cut straight to the case, "Who was it from, Lemony?"

Without a word, he handed her the letter, and she skipped over the contents to gaze at the signature at the bottom of the page: _Olaf_. Oh dear. No wonder Lemony was upset.

"I...I should have told you. I'm sorry," was all she could think of to say. It wasn't nearly good enough, nor did her apology change anything, but it was the best she could come up with.

He continued to surprise her: rather than get angry and yell at her, he just sat back down in his chair, still not saying a word. Kit decided she would have preferred for him to get angry. This was unbearable.

"Lemony, please say something."

"What? What do you want me to say?" he muttered. He sounded heartbroken. "There aren't words, Kit." _That_ was something she would have _never_ expected him to say. Anything that made her rhetorical analyst brother speechless was something serious indeed.

"I'm sorry," Kit repeated. Her eyes were filling up with tears despite her best efforts to control herself.

"Did you even read the letter?" He looked up into her eyes, but she couldn't read anything from his expression. It was completely blank.

"Not yet," she whispered.

"Read it."

She didn't really want to read the letter in front of Lemony, but it became instantly clear that she didn't really have any choice. She knew it couldn't be good; she and Olaf weren't exactly on the best terms lately, especially since he had come under the suspicions of the other volunteers for some things that happened in his past. Kit swallowed hard as she held up the letter and began to read.

The tears were flowing freely now. She had hoped that maybe there was some chance of reconciliation with Olaf, but now she knew that it was hopeless. She stared at the words in disbelief, dumbfounded. She avoided Lemony's eyes, which she knew were watching her intently. She noticed in her peripheral vision that he was standing up. He surprised her yet again. Her dear brother put his arm around her, and she leaned on his shoulder and just let her tears pour down.

When she was finally able to compose herself, Kit looked up at Lemony. "Kit," he murmured.

"Yes?"

"I hate to say this, and I don't mean to sound impolite, but perhaps now you understand how I feel. You cannot truly understand the feeling until you experience it for yourself." In that moment, Kit realized that her brother was one of the most amazing people she had ever met. He had handled his heartbreak so much better than she had.

"I'm so sorry, Lemony," she said again, laying her head on his shoulder once more. Even though Kit was going through one of the toughest things she had ever experienced, she still held onto the happiness that came from being able to share this moment with her brother. She loved him more at that moment than she ever had before.


	3. Chapter 3

Olaf wrapped his arms around his knees, leaning his head over on the seat and trying to go to sleep. His new associates were already fast asleep beside him and in the seat across from him, and he couldn't stand listening to their snoring and the rumble of the train. But he just couldn't sleep. He couldn't get her off his mind.

This wasn't how it was supposed to feel. He was supposed to be glad to be rid of her. He had been sure that this was what he wanted...but that was during the day. Now it was the dark of night, and her image kept taunting him. Without her, he had nothing left in the world.

That had been the plan. To get rid of the last thing strapping him to his integrity. But instead of feeling liberated, he just felt broken. Broken, and empty.

A voice broke into his musing. "Boss? Is somethin' wrong?" It was Fernald, his most recently acquired associate. He was young, and he had hooks in place of both his hands, but he was loyal, and actually rather efficient. He had joined Olaf out of guilt, and Olaf knew that no other emotion would bind a person to treachery as strongly as guilt.

"What? Of course not," he grumbled, "I thought you were asleep."

"I don't sleep much anymore."

Olaf didn't know what to say to that, so he just closed his eyes, hoping Fernald would take the hint. He must have because he didn't say anything else. Olaf kept his eyes closed for the rest of the night, but he didn't sleep.

He tried to distract himself with plotting, but all he could think about was her. Her golden hair-oh, how it shined in the sunlight. Her eyes-how they sparkled when she smiled. No, Olaf, _concentrate_. And how she could always make him laugh when he was feeling down. If only she were here now...

No. He couldn't go on like this. Something was gonna have to give. "You still awake?" he growled to Fernald.

"Yeah. Just thinkin'."

"So was I. I was thinking about how to get Bertrand's attention. You have any ideas?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I do. Did you hear that his wife is pregnant?

"Yes, I heard something like that. But we aren't likely to seem all that intimidating where she's concerned. How would we get close enough to Beatrice to be a threat to her? He'll keep her away from us if he knows we're after her."

"Yeah, you're ri-"

Olaf cut him off with a snap of his fingers, "Wait! I've got it!"

"Sir?"

"Yes, we'll definitely threaten his dear little expectant wife. That's the best way to get to him, for sure. I'm a genius, you know that?"

"I don't think I understand...I thought you said-"

"That's why _I'm_ the genius," Olaf said with a smirk, "I'll break it down for you since you're clearly not as brilliant as I am. You see, the plan is simple..."


	4. Chapter 4

Lemony read through the letter for the eighth time, sighing. He had been hoping for a letter from Beatrice, but of course he was never that fortunate. Instead, _Bertrand_ had written him to tell him about Beatrice's pregnancy. Lemony could just hear the gloating voice as he again read through the short letter.

_Mr. Snicket, _

_I don't know if you have already heard, but Beatrice is with child. Our baby shower will be held at our home next Thursday at two o'clock, and you are invited. Beatrice has requested that you attend. We would be very pleased if you would join us in our celebration. No gifts, please. _

_Cordially, _

_Bertrand _

Was is too much to ask for her to write him a letter? Could she not bear to talk to him at all? But if that were true, then why would she invite him into her home for the baby shower? It didn't make sense.

But then again, it made perfect sense. It was _Bertrand_ who didn't like the idea of her talking to Lemony. He was trying to keep them away from eachother, and Lemony knew it.

Bertrand knew all about Beatrice's past with Lemony. He also seemed to believe that she still had some sort of feelings for him, even if they were only friendly ones. He couldn't stand the idea of her enjoying Lemony's company.

Lemony stared at the pile of crumpled papers on the floor. He had attempted to RSVP, but he seemed unable to find polite words to say to Bertrand. He would love to write to Beatrice, but he knew Bertrand would read it, so he didn't bother. He would just have to surprise them if he decided to go.

Lemony leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. _If _he decided to go. He had to make that decision, and soon. He only had a week to prepare if he chose to attend, and he would certainly want to buy a gift if he did, regardless of what the invitation said. It was the least he could do for the love of his life, after all.

He stared out the window at the black night sky, it's darkness reflecting his mood. He decided the only thing left for him to do at this late hour was to try to get a little sleep, so he went to bed. He lay there for several hours before finally drifting away, dreaming of Beatrice and things that could have been.


	5. Chapter 5

Bertrand grumbled to himself as he helped Beatrice finish decorating for the baby shower and setting out food on the table. It wasn't long before the first cars began to appear in the mansion's driveway. He and Beatrice made their way to the front door to greet their guests.

The mansion was soon full of friends, associates, and the like. Bertrand could tell that Beatrice was scanning the room for a certain someone. Lemony Snicket, however, was nowhere to be seen. He chuckled to himself, realizing that his adversary might not show up after all.

His dreams were soon crushed as he saw Mr. Snicket step in the front door. He watched as he hung his coat and hat on a rack. Bertrand looked at Beatrice and saw that she hadn't seen Lemony yet, so he quickly went to the door to greet him.

"We were beginning to think you weren't coming," he said, glancing back to make sure he was blocking Beatrice's line of sight. _A small step to the right...perfect._

"I'm fashionably late," replied Mr. Snicket with a bit of a grin. He tried to step around Bertrand, but was intercepted by a fellow that Bertrand didn't recognize. The two talked in hushed tones for a moment before Lemony spoke to Bertrand again. His voice was still low as he muttered, "I have something important that I need to speak with you about when you get a moment." Bertrand nodded, wondering what in the world Lemony Snicket could have to talk to him about. He thought he had settled everything with this man when he married Beatrice.

"Alright, but you'll have to wait until after dinner."

The crowd gathered into the dining room and were seated around the long table. Dinner was served, and the food was delicious as always. After all, it _was_ a Baudelaire dinner party. After a three-course meal and dessert, the group filed into the living room to socialize a bit. So far, Bertrand had managed to keep Beatrice from noticing Lemony's presence. He decided the only way to keep it that way now would be to take Lemony outside and see what it was he wanted to talk about.

He walked over to where Lemony and his unfamiliar companion were standing and tapped Lemony on the shoulder. Lemony turned and looked at him, but said nothing. "Follow me," Bertrand whispered. Within minutes, the three of them were standing on the front porch of the Baudelaire mansion. Bertrand hadn't expected the unknown gentleman to follow them out, but he didn't say anything because Lemony didn't seem to have a problem with it.

After a brief silence, Mr. Snicket spoke, "You aren't very protective of Beatrice."

"What? Of course I am," Bertrand said with a frown. Surely this wasn't what he had been so anxious to discuss with him. "I take good care of my wife."

"You don't realize just how easy it was for me to get close to your charming little wife this evening. I could have practically killed her if I'd wanted to, and you couldn't have done anything about it."

"Lemony, you didn't go anywhere near Beatrice tonight."

"But I could have," he said, showing Bertrand a strange crooked smile, "Couldn't I?" When he smiled, Bertrand could see his crooked yellow teeth. Then he noticed an odd twinkle in his eye.

Then it dawned on him.

"_Olaf_," he spat, "What are you doing here?"

"Take a wild guess," Olaf replied with a sneer. Bertrand just glared at him, trying to decide whether or not he should step inside announce the uninvited visitor's presence, or handle the situation himself. "I just wanted to show you that your sweet little wife could be in danger. With her in such a..._compromising_ position, I would think you would take better care of her."

"I kept an eye on her all evening."

"Believe what you will, but I still suggest you don't make any enemies for yourself, or she could end up in a very compromising position indeed."

"Is that a threat, Olaf?"

"More of an offer. I could make sure no harm comes to her during this pregnancy," he smiled, and this time it looked genuine. Almost inviting. "Unless you think you can handle that on your own, of course. I simply wanted to offer my help."

Bertrand had to think about this. It was definitely unexpected. Especially from someone like Olaf, who usually thought only of himself. "It's never that simple. What's in it for you?"

"Not much, really. You just promise to help me out in my 'endeavors' whenever I need your assistance."

"I'm going to need more information than that before I agree to anything."

"If that's a no, I understand. But remember what I said," Olaf replied, looking Bertrand square in the eyes, "About not making enemies."

He hesitated for a few minutes before answering, but finally he muttered, "Fine. I'll do whatever you ask. But don't you dare lay a hand on my Beatrice."

Olaf grinned and nodded toward his friend, who turned and walked away from the house. "Consider it a deal, Bertrand. I keep my end as long as you keep yours." He held out his hand, and Bertrand reluctantly shook it.

A black car, driven by Olaf's unidentified associate, drove up in front of the mansion, and Olaf climbed into the passenger seat. As it drove away, Bertrand stood on the front porch of his enormous home and wondered what he had gotten himself into.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been two weeks since the shower, and Beatrice still hadn't heard from Lemony. She really wasn't very surprised that he had missed the baby shower, but she had at least expected him to hide a letter or a card or something in the hedges out back. She had checked everyday. _What if something happened to him?_ she thought to herself. _No, that's silly. Maybe...maybe Bertrand found it. Yes, that's it. He must have gotten to it first_.

She had to fight to keep from crying. She knew if Bertrand saw her cry, he would know exactly what it was about, and he would complain about it all evening. She had to stay strong.

In an attempt to get her mind off her grief, Beatrice unfolded and began to read _The Daily Punctilio_. She tried to concentrate on the front page articles, but before she knew it, she had flipped to the obituaries and was scanning for his name. _This is ridiculous. I'm getting myself all worked up over nothing_.

Then she saw it. There it was, in black and white, and yet she couldn't bring herself to believe it. She skimmed over the article, hardly paying any attention to its words. It pronounced her beloved Lemony Snicket dead, and that was all that mattered. All other details were trivial. She dropped the newspaper to the floor, unable to contain her tears any longer. She hurried to the bathroom so Bertrand wouldn't see. As soon as the door was closed behind her, she sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. She couldn't help feeling responsible.

She tried to control herself, but this attempt only made it worse. She began to sob uncontrollably, and had to turn on the sink to drown out the sound of her weeping. She couldn't bare to let Bertrand catch her crying. He had probably already heard the news, anyway, and would be expecting her to be hysterical. She simply had to pull herself together. She took slow, deep breaths and washed her face with warm water to calm herself. She had finally managed to stop the tears, but she hardly looked presentable. Her cheeks were puffy, and her nose was terribly red. Her eyes were bloodshot. She could think of nothing to do except pretend to be sick.

Just as she was opening the bathroom door to return to the den and face Bertrand, she heard him call out, "Bea, I'm going out. I'll probably be late, so don't wait up for me." His words were mysterious, and any other time she would have been suspicious, but she could only laugh.

"Alright, honey," she replied. She listened for the slam of the door before going to the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of bitter tea. She took the tea with her to her bedroom and curled up in her big corner reading chair. Then, she completely let go of her composure. The more she thought about Lemony and the things that could have been, the more the tears flowed. She cried herself to sleep in the chair, and woke up several hours later to find that she hadn't even touched her tea.

She poured her tea down the kitchen sink with a frown. Then she turned out the lights and went to bed.


	7. Chapter 7

Lemony felt more ashamed of himself with every drop of the pouring rain as he stood on the sidewalk waiting for a taxi. His mind was on one thing, and one thing alone.

He had gone to the mailbox specifically to read that letter, yet he hadn't read it until days later. The letter from his friend, the Duchess, telling him whether or not his assistance would be needed for an investigation she was conducting. He had promised to help her if she needed him to. He had even said he would drop everything and come to her aid at any moment. She had done a lot for him over the years. It was the least he could do.

But he still felt horrible for missing Beatrice's baby shower over it. R would have understood, he knew. So why didn't he just explain it to her? He still hadn't figured that out. Perhaps he was afraid to face Beatrice. Afraid to see her with her husband, and hear her talk of their new baby. He knew she would be very happy. He felt like such a coward.

He also felt guilty for not reading the letter when it first arrived. It did indeed request his assistance, and he had left as soon as he had read it. He couldn't help thinking that if he had read it, he might have had time to help his friend and get back home in time for the baby shower. If only he hadn't gotten so upset about Kit's...whatever it was.

So here he was, waiting for a taxi to return him home. He had arrived, helped the Duchess with her work, and was ready to return home in only a few days. If only he had read the letter the day he had received it.

Finally, a bright yellow taxi cab turned the corner, and he waved to the driver. At least once he was home, he could write an apology to Beatrice and hide it in the shrubs behind her house. That would help his feelings a little, he knew.


	8. Chapter 8

Bertrand stood on the threshold of his bedroom and stared at his sleeping wife, trying to convince himself that he was justified in his actions. He was trying to protect her, after all. She was his most valuable possession. He kept telling himself things such as "You have no other choice" and "Anyone else would do the same thing in your position," yet he couldn't bring himself to believe any of it. At the end of his long, dreary day, when the sun had long been down, and the moon was hidden behind the clouds, all he could think was, "You're a horrible person. You're just like Olaf." He knew what he would have to do if he defied Olaf, though: he would have to run away-he and Beatrice would have to hide. He just wasn't ready for that drastic a move yet.

He considered waking Beatrice so he would have someone to talk to, but he decided he had better let her sleep. After all, the sight of Lemony's obituary in the paper must have been an awful blow to her. He felt guiltier than ever as he considered the false obituary. He wondered how he could had done that to his poor wife in the first place, but he could come up with no answer that satisfied him. He knew in his heart it was simply because he was selfish. He thought he deserved all her love, and that she shouldn't think about anyone else. He had felt it necessary to call The Daily Punctilio. He couldn't wake her now. She deserved the rest.

As he lay on his bed and thought about his evening, the silence of his house began to pound in his ears. He kept hearing sounds outside that weren't really there at all: voices, whispers in the dark, taps on the window. All he had done was deliver a copy of the last VFD meeting's notes to Olaf, yet he felt as though he had murdered someone very close to him. He had betrayed VFD, his oldest, closest friend. His relationship would never be the same with any of his fellow members now that he had done this deed. Though it seemed so small to him, he knew it was a big step. He knew in his mind that Olaf would give him worse and worse tasks, first playing on his desire to protect his wife, then on his guilt. Soon he would be just like Olaf himself.

He had to do something. He had to get out, and fast. He would tell Beatrice the news the next morning, and if she asked questions, he would refuse to answer-he couldn't trouble her with the details-at least until they were far away. It was decided. He would begin packing first thing in the morning. They would be off in no less than a week.


	9. Chapter 9

Olaf frowned as he tossed the papers into the trunk of his car. VFD's secrets weren't as interesting as he had expected. Actually, the last meeting had only included discussion of things he knew already. He would have to get Bertrand to bring him the notes from the next few meetings as well if he wanted to learn anything important.

Oh well. It wasn't like that was what he had Bertrand around for anyway. He was just training him for bigger jobs later on. Once Bertrand was used to bringing him the notes from the VFD meetings, Olaf would make him do more important jobs. But he had to get past the guilt first.

Olaf hadn't heard from Bertrand in nearly a week, and he was beginning to worry that Bertrand had chickened out already. But he knew he would never do that, not with Beatrice's life in danger. If anything happened to Beatrice, it would mean the end of Bertrand's good reputation. Olaf and everyone else knew that Beatrice was the only thing that kept most people talking to Bertrand.

When Olaf pulled into the driveway of the Baudelaire mansion, he was surprised to find the place deserted. Their car was gone, and there were no lights on inside or out-even the night light was out. When Olaf checked their mailbox, he found nothing there, either. He wondered if they had gone on vacation.

He waited for nearly an hour, and there was still no sign of life. He decided the only thing to do was go home and try again tomorrow.

He went through this routine three days in a row, and there was still no sign of the Baudelaires. He would never have admitted it, but this worried him. He needed to know the whereabouts of his accomplices/associates at all times to protect himself and his secrets. He could think of only one solution: he would have to talk to Lemony Snicket.


	10. Chapter 10

Kit sat on a large rock, staring out at the ocean and mumbling to herself. "Pull yourself together, Kit," she murmured, her eyes full of tears, "You have work to do." She sat thinking, thinking about everything.

She looked down at the beautiful ring on her finger - at the _R_ emblazoned in it. Lemony had given the ring to her only days before she left. "I'd like you to take this, Kit," he had said. Her puzzled look implored him to explain. "The Duchess gave it to me several years ago. She told me to give it to the woman I loved. Well, I tried that." His voice quivered a bit, but he did not cry. "The woman I loved gave it back to me. She told me to save it so I could give it to another woman someday. I suppose she thought I would love again," his eyes glazed over, "as she did." That was all he said, and then he left.

As Kit stared down at the ring, she wondered what she would do with it. Her love had gone away as well. She had no one to give it to. "Oh, stop crying. You're acting like a child," she hissed, "It was naïve to think you really had a chance with him anyway. Stop wallow-" she was cut off in the middle of lecturing herself by a loud clap of thunder. Startled, she jumped up from the rock and hurried inside. She peered into the periscope that hung from the ceiling to see how close the storm was.

What she saw startled her even more than the thunder: apparently, the storm had already passed. She decided she must have been so caught up in her pity party that she was completely unaware of its passing. The thunder must have been at the end of the storm.

She was just about to step away from the periscope when she saw a movement on the beach. Looking more closely, she realized that a small boat had crashed onto the shore. Kit watched it closely for a sign of life. In just a moment, she could make out a man climbing out of the wreckage. He began to frantically push debris out of the way, and Kit knew he must be trying to find someone. She ran outside and quickly climbed over the rocks, hoping to get to the beach in time to help the man. She stumbled once and twisted her ankle, but she hurried on as fast as she could.

When she finally made it to the beach, she was shocked to find it completely deserted. Even the wreckage was gone. She sat down in the sand to rest her ankle, her eyes once again filling with tears. As she again stared down at the ring with the _R_, she wondered if she was going mad.


End file.
